Napoleon’s Nemesis: The Duke of Wellington

Napoleon Bonaparte and Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley never met or corresponded, and they fought only one battle directly against each other, on June 18, 1815. The fact that it was the Battle of Waterloo, which resulted in Napoleon’s permanent removal from the French throne, cemented them together in history.

They were the same age

Arthur Wellesley – better known as the Duke of Wellington, a title he was granted in 1814 – was born in Dublin on May 1, 1769, the same year as Napoleon. He joined the British Army in 1787 and served in the Netherlands, India and Denmark before rising to prominence in the Peninsular War. He led the allied forces to victory against the French in Spain, and served as Britain’s ambassador to France after Napoleon’s first abdication in 1814. Louis XVIII was very fond of Wellington. The feeling was not entirely reciprocated.

When the Duke of Wellington was later asked if he saw Napoleon on the opposite heights at Waterloo, he said, “No, I could not – the day was dark – there was a great deal of rain in the air.” (1)

It is claimed that during the battle a British artillery officer came to Wellington to tell him that he had a clear a view of Napoleon and several guns pointing in that direction. Wellington replied, “No! I’ll not allow it. It is not the business of commanders to be firing upon one another.” (2) As Andrew Roberts notes in Napoleon and Wellington (2001), Napoleon needed to be defeated in the field. If he had been killed in an “ungentlemanly” fashion, people would always have suspected that he would have won the battle. Afterwards, Wellington refused to allow Napoleon to be handed over to the Prussians, who were keen to execute him.

Wellington’s opinion of Napoleon

Wellington did not consider Napoleon to be a gentleman. He commonly referred to him as “Buonaparte,” using a spelling and pronunciation that emphasized Napoleon’s non-French lineage. In 1835 Wellington wrote:

Buonaparte’s whole life, civil, political, and military, was a fraud. There was not a transaction, great or small, in which lying and fraud were not introduced…. Of flagrant lies, the most important in the military branch of his life that I can now recollect are – first, the expedition from Egypt into Syria, which totally failed, and yet on his return to Egypt was represented to the army there as a victory…. The next was the battle of Eylau. This he represented as a great victory. It is true that the Allied army retired after the battle. So did Buonaparte. … I should think that Spain would afford you instances of fraud in his political schemes and negotiations. … Buonaparte’s foreign policy was force and menace, aided by fraud and corruption. If the fraud was discovered, force and menace succeeded; and in most cases the unfortunate victim did not dare to avow that he perceived the fraud. (3)

However, he later said to the same correspondent:

I have seen most of the other marshals and I have no doubt that, as a general, Buonaparte was the best of them…and with his prestige worth forty thousand men. (4)

As Roberts points out, Wellington could not disparage Napoleon’s military skill without lessening his own achievements.

Napoleon’s opinion of Wellington

Napoleon referred to Wellington as a representative of the “English oligarchy.” He blamed him for his exile to St. Helena, even though Wellington – who had spent a month on the island in 1805 – had nothing to do with the choice of that remote location.

One of Napoleon’s companions on St. Helena, the Count de Las Cases, writes that in general Napoleon disliked speaking of Wellington. “He seemed carefully to avoid pronouncing his opinion on him; feeling, no doubt, the impropriety of publicly depreciating the General who had triumphed over him.” (5) On one occasion when Napoleon did pronounce on Wellington, his remarks were not complimentary:

[I]t is very certain that I gave [Wellington] a terrible quarter of an hour [at Waterloo]. This usually constitutes a claim on noble minds; his was incapable of feeling it. My fall, and the lot that might have been reserved for me, afforded him the opportunity of reaping higher glory than he has gained by all his victories. But he did not understand this. Well, at any rate, he ought to be heartily grateful to old Blücher; had it not been for him, I know not where his Grace might have been today; but I know that I, at least, should not have been at St. Helena. Wellington’s troops were admirable, but his plans were despicable; or should I rather say, that he formed none at all. He had placed himself in a situation in which it was impossible he could form any; and by a curious chance, this very circumstance saved him. If he could have commenced a retreat, he must infallibly have been lost. He certainly remained master of the field of battle; but was his success the result of his skill? He has reaped the fruit of a brilliant victory; but did his genius prepare it for him? His glory is wholly negative. His faults were enormous. He, the European Generalissimo, to whose hands so many interests were entrusted, and having before him an enemy so prompt and daring as myself, left his forces dispersed and slumbered in a capital until he was surprised. And yet such is the power of fatality! (6)

In his will Napoleon left 10,000 francs to a former imperial army soldier named Cantillon who had been accused, and acquitted, of attempting to assassinate Wellington in Paris in 1818.

Wellington after Waterloo

Although best known as a military commander, the Duke of Wellington was also a Tory politician. During the time in which Napoleon in America is set, Wellington was serving in Lord Liverpool’s cabinet as Master-General of the Ordnance. This meant he was responsible for British artillery, engineers, fortifications, military supplies, transport and field hospitals, among other things. He later served twice as Prime Minister of Great Britain, in 1828-1830 and again briefly in 1834. In his later years he was Commander-in-Chief of the British Army, a post he held until his death on September 14, 1852 at the age of 83. For an image of the Duke of Wellington on his deathbed, and to read his last words, see my post on the last words of famous people.

The Twelve Great Battles of England (London, 1861), p. 179. Another version of the story has the officer saying, “There’s Buonaparte, Sir. I think I can reach him, may I fire?” and Wellington responding, “No, no. Generals commanding armies have something else to do than to shoot at one another.” G.R. Gleig, The Life of Arthur Duke of Wellington (London, 1869), p. 267.

Louis J. Jennings, ed., The Croker Papers: The Correspondence and Diaries of the Late Right Honourable John Wilson Croker, Vol. 2 (London, 1885), p. 286.

found this through tweet from @PillarofState – excellent and informative, will be looking a lot more through this site in future. always interests me to understand what each thought of the other – not an easy subject to find accurate information on i would imagine. I think it still shows further that wellington showed some compassion for soldiers and on his enemies, interesting that he would not give Napoleon over to the Prussians after the battle.

Thanks! I’m glad you’re enjoying the site. Wellington did have compassion for soldiers, and a real sense of what it was to be a gentleman. Here’s what he wrote on June 26, 1815 regarding the issue of Napoleon being executed:

General —— has been here this day to negotiate for Napoleon’s passing to America, to which proposition I have answered, that I have no authority. The Prussians think the Jacobins wish to give him over to me, believing that I will save his life. —— wishes to kill him; but I have told him I shall remonstrate, and shall insist upon his being disposed of by common accord. I have likewise said that, as a private friend, I advised him to have nothing to do with so foul a transaction; and that he and I had acted too distinguished parts in these transactions to become executioners, and that I was determined that, if the sovereigns wished to put him to death, they should appoint an executioner, which should not be me.

Sadly, Wellington was never as good a PM as he was a General and is generally regarded as a failed politician.

He actually had a technical advantage over the French, which is seldom noted. British artillery had a longer range and higher muzzle velocity than the French. Napoleon, being primarily an artillery officer could not compete against that advantage.

The source of the technical advantage? A supply of Graphite, which allowed finer muzzle and ball surfaces.

That technical advantage played a part in every battle on land and sea.

David Haworth’s book ‘A Near Run Thing’ title based on Wellington’s comment on battle.
Napoleon’s comments demean him – sore loser? Mistakes happened on both sides. Lord Uxbridge’s calvary charge. Napoleon’s premature deployment of Imperial Guard. — Napoleon seems unaware that there was a plan — choosing the ground so W’s troops could be out of sight. Secondly — W’s use of best riders in the world — Brit aristocrats — to keep him informed. Haworth says Napoleon was ill — wonder if he really had a clue why he lost. Counted on Marshall Ney, whom W had defeated — I believe — in Spain. D J

Napoleonic Code necessary in conception, unfortunate in details. Example — women’s property rights. Believe code framed by jurists who themselves had worked at law during ancien regime. Napoleon ordered the code. But did he have much to do with its concepts?

Thanks for your comments, Douglas. Regarding the Napoleonic Code, there is an interesting article by Charles Sumner Lobingier in the Harvard Law Review of December 1918 (available for free on JSTOR: https://www.jstor.org/stable/1327640?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents) that talks about how the code was drafted. According to Lobingier, Napoleon played more than a perfunctory role.